Definitely an Eleven
December 4, l989
I poured myself another cup of coffee and sat down to relax before beginning the enormous task before me: unpacking. Walls of boxes rose up everywhere, very intimidating. I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves. “All right, Dotty, you can do this! Pretend it’s a major spring cleaning job.” Who was I kidding? I hated spring cleaning.
Still, with Amanda and Lee working such long hours, and the boys busy with school, I needed to take responsibility. The furniture had been delivered over the weekend, and everyone spent the last two days getting their bedrooms in order, leaving the rest of the house until later. Of course, that didn’t include the kitchen. With two bottomless pits for food--also known as teenage boys--that was a main priority.
While I sipped my coffee, I allowed my mind to wander back several months. It took me some time to get over the shock of Amanda’s secret marriage and what she and Lee really did for a living. But not as long as they thought. I had to let them stew for a little while, didn’t I? Imagine, my daughter and son-in-law being spies. Lee told me he doesn’t like that word, but I think it fits him to a tee. The exotic locations, the weird phone calls, it all made sense. His image was more James Bond than director. In fact, I adore Sean Connery--so debonair, so suave, and so sexy. I grinned at the thought of Sean in his tuxedo, martini in hand.
In actuality, I forgave Lee and Amanda almost immediately for their lies. All I did was look at them together. Seeing the love they had for each other, I couldn’t stay mad for long. Lee put the sparkle back into Amanda’s eyes, and I would always be grateful to him for that. Also, he was turning out to be an excellent stepfather to Phillip and Jamie. Hopefully, some day there’d be another little one running around and calling me grandma. If the amount of time Lee and Amanda spent in the bedroom was any indication, they should be making an announcement in the very near future.
When they told me they were looking for a larger house, I said it seemed like the time for me to get a small apartment of my own. Both of them refused my suggestion. Lee, the darling that he is, wouldn’t even consider the option of my not living with them.
********
“Sitting here reminiscing isn’t getting anything accomplished,” I said out loud to the empty room. Christmas was only three weeks away; and the house needed to be put in order. Lillian would be spending the holiday here. It was one thing for us to live with this mess, but this was my sister! I’d never hear the end of it if the house wasn’t shipshape and fully-decorated.
I decided to start with the den. I opened the box labeled “knick-knacks” and dusted each item off before placing it on the shelf. If Amanda didn’t like where I put ‘em, she could always move them. At least there wouldn’t be as many boxes left to unpack.
Several hours and a few boxes later, I decided it was time for a light lunch. I lingered over my meal as long as possible, but how long does it take to eat a bowl of tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich? I put my plate in the sink and returned to the den, determined to unpack more boxes.
I eyed the large number of cartons labeled “books” and decided to work on those next. An hour later I was still placing books on the shelves. I had no idea this family owned so many books. But what can you expect when your daughter is an American lit major and one of your grandsons is a bookworm? Come to think of it, I have a large collection of books in my bedroom, but those are mostly romance paperbacks. I just love to read a good love story before falling asleep.
When I opened the next box, I noticed it was filled with car magazines. Must be Phillip’s. Glancing through the contents, I found magazines on wine and exotic travel. “Lee’s.”
As I started to put the magazines back in the box, the title of one caught my attention. “Spy Boy.” Now what kind of name was that for a magazine? Maybe it was something that all spies subscribed to. What was the well-dressed spy wearing this year? What new gadgets did every spy need? Something like that. Curious, I began to leaf through it.
“What’s this?” On the page before me was a picture of Amanda in what looked like a French maid’s outfit. My, she did look cute. Must get it from me. I read the accompanying article and saw a reference to a Lee Stetson centerfold in a companion magazine called “Spy Girl.”
Now I was intrigued. If Amanda was wearing a sexy outfit, what about Lee? Would he being wearing something equally provocative? I dug through the box until I finally found what I was looking for. A picture of Lee, dressed in a beautifully tailored suit, stared back at me from the cover. My daughter certainly picked a handsome man to marry. Turning the pages I came across the centerfold.
The photograph was of Lee sitting on a wooden stool, one leg bent on the lower perch, wearing nothing but his watch, a tie, and what appeared to be a very small towel covering his groin area. What was that? I couldn’t quite make it out. I put the magazine up close to my face, trying to focus on the area in question. It wasn’t going to work. I had to find my glasses. I threw the magazine down and hurried off to search for them.
I found them in my bedroom and raced back to the den. After flicking the light on next to the couch, I sat down and picked up the magazine for a better look. Surely I couldn’t really have seen what I thought I saw earlier. It had to be a trick of my eyes and the lighting. Bifocals firmly in place, I scrutinized the area in question.
Oh my! It *was* what I thought I’d seen. The tip of Lee’s penis was peeking out from under the towel.
When I told Amanda that Lee was eleven on a scale of one to ten, I never thought that I would’ve been so accurate in my description. It was no wonder Amanda always had a smile on her face. I felt my cheeks flush, and I hoped I wouldn’t embarrass myself the next time I saw him.
After placing the magazines back inside the box, I went to do the laundry and make dinner. I hoped I didn’t burn the roast. Trying to keep my mind off that picture wasn’t going to be easy.
********
I dried my hands on the kitchen towel, deciding it was time for a nice long bath, a glass of milk with a splash of Galliano, and one of my romance novels. I made my way toward the den to tell Lee and Amanda I was turning in. The sound of Lee’s voice made me stop short.
“Is it just me, or was Dotty acting a little strange at dinner?”
I pressed my back against the wall and peered around the corner.
“No, why do you ask?” Amanda seemed puzzled.
Good. Neither of them saw me. I kept up my covert surveillance, wondering what they’d say next.
“I don’t know. It’s just a feeling I was getting. I hope I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I’m sure you haven’t. Maybe she just needs a little time to adjust to the move.”
“I hope you’re right.” Lee opened one of the boxes. “Ummm, Amanda, did you open this earlier?”
“No, why?”
He held up issues of “Spy Boy” and “Spy Girl.” The ones I looked at earlier.
“Oh my gosh!” Amanda looked a little pale. “You don’t think she saw them, do you?”
Lee put the magazines back in the box. “I hope not. But I could’ve sworn when I packed, I buried ‘em in the middle. I wanted to keep them as a remembrance for just the two of us.”
“See, you really don’t remember. Let’s not make a mountain out of a mole hill.”
It was time for my entrance. I walked into the room, keeping my expression serene as Greta Garbo’s in that “Mata Hari” movie I saw on the late show last week. “Well, the kitchen is all cleaned up. I’m heading to a nice long bath and a good book.”
“Mother, did you unpack this box today?” Amanda asked, pointing to the one Lee stood next to.
I smiled innocently. “Why, yes, dear, I did. I wanted to give you a jumpstart by unpacking as much as I could. I think that box of magazines is Lee’s, though.”
Lee gulped. “Yeah, they’re mine. They should’ve been put in our bedroom.”
“I know, dear. As soon as I saw the titles, I figured out they were yours and not Phillip’s. Good night.” I noticed that they both visibly relaxed, and kissed them each on the cheek.
Just when I heard Lee let out a sigh of relief, I turned my head and said over my shoulder, “Oh, by the way, Lee, nice . . . umm . . . package you have there.”
There was dead silence. I should’ve won an Academy Award for keeping a straight face as I made my way out the door. I resumed my spot at my listening post and peeked around the corner.
“She DID see it!” Amanda exclaimed.
Lee said nothing, his mouth agape and his face bright red.
It’s a good thing I don’t work for the KGB. I wonder if I should call the Agency and apply for a job as a spy. No, two spies in the family is enough.
The End
Story Notes:
Disclaimer: Scarecrow and Mrs. King and its characters belong to WB and Shoot the Moon Productions. No infringement is intended. This is written for entertainment purposes only. Please do not redistribute or reproduce this story without my permission.
Thanks: Lynda for creating a wonderful magazine and Lisa, Miriam and Almira for their helpful betaing and catching my errors.
Thanks: Lynda for creating a wonderful magazine and Lisa, Miriam and Almira for their helpful betaing and catching my errors.